Right
posted by Aeire

So at work there's this placemat over by the coffeepot of this lady called Molly Pitcher. If you are not familiar with her at all, she was this woman who supposedly was around during the Revolutionary War, and she brought pitchers of water to hot and thirsty men on the battlefield regardless of her own safety. Which would be why she's called Molly Pitcher but see that's not really the point of this story. The placemat itself has a painted picture of this beautiful doe-eyed woman gracefully pouring water for some haphazard soldier or another, and as I stared at this painting, I pondered how every woman in every old photo I've ever seen looked and realized that she probably wasn't this doe-eyed graceful lithe thing, and instead was more than likely a swarthy, possibly intimidating mannish sort of woman who was strong enough to carry injured soldiers off the field.

It then occured to me that if I am going to be remembered fondly, decades upon decades after I die, I would very much like to be painted as a doe-eyed young thing, rather than the sort of lumpy and haphazard, awkward looking creature that I generally am. Please take note of this, and plan accordingly. A time capsule with a note in it would be lovely.